Godly Perfect
by Unsaid Goodbyes
Summary: Edward Cullen. He doesn’t exist, but what if he did? But what if he wasn’t what we expected? This is the story of the unfortunate Edward Corwin. Our Universe.


A/N: Yes, I'm a horrible person. I should be updating the two stories _I already have to be updating_, yet I'm spending my time writing random one-shots. I know. I'm terrible. But you love me, or else you wouldn't be reading this—unless you have no idea who I am. But that's not the point. The point is, this story is going to rock your socks off. It's original (Or at least, I've never heard of this idea before. If it exists, I'm terribly sorry) and I laughed so hard when one point of the story came into my head. So, onto the one-shot…

Summary: Edward Cullen. He doesn't exist, but what if he did? But what if he wasn't what we expected? This is the story of the unfortunate Edward Corwin. Our Universe.

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**Title: **Godly Perfect

**Rating: **T

**Author: **Breathless Tomb

One-Shot

**3****rd**** Person's POV**

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The Twilight phenomenon has touched everywhere around the world. From the northern coasts of Canada, to the dry, sunny beaches of Australia. To most of us, it has come as a grand source of entertainment. A personal treasure to say the least. We have all come to hate—or love—Jacob, to adore Alice's trademark cheerfulness, to anticipate Rosalie's cold personality, and to place ourselves as Bella Swan.

Because really—deny it all you want—if the opportunity ever arose, who _wouldn't_ want an Edward Cullen all to themselves?

But…as big as this sensation has become, there are a few people doting the world who have never heard of it. Perhaps they heard it in a passing conversation, but never understood just how huge this 'Twilight' was. But the fact remains that there are such people.

While we're on the subject of Twilight, let's talk about one of the main characters, and the fantasy of millions of girls around the globe.

Edward Cullen.

Polite, calm, gorgeous, mysterious, vastly intelligent, and selfless. We know he has his faults, but honestly, if there were more men like Edward Cullen, fewer people would be divorcing. The idea of a man like him, so perfect and romantic, is…unbelievable. Unreachable. A daydream to amuse oneself with. It's not something that would exist in this day and age. Simply impossible.

Or is it?

This is the story of Edward Corwin, who had the misfortune of being born into a family who valued honour and reputation. His curse—which many would consider a blessing, but what would they know—was never realized in his young years. Not for the longest time. He went through years of virtual nonexistence, where the only people to pay attention to him were his family.

Until October 5th, 2005.

Before that date, Edward never really interacted with many people. He was a shy child, and it didn't help that he came from an old family—a family of wealth and power, who expected nothing less than perfection from their son.

He was educated from a young age in many different subjects. Mathematics, literature, culture, the arts, geography, science, and several languages. He was brought up to be prim and proper, taught how to act like a respectable man.

So, Edward kept his distance from other kids his age, giving him the appearance of a cold and calculating individual. After a while, it seemed like no one could stand to be in the same room as the quiet child, adding to his already lonely life.

But this all changed on the day Twilight was published.

It took a few months before Edward began to notice that more and more women were beginning to give him double takes. While it was no secret that Edward was indeed a rather handsome teenager—now nearly fourteen, entering puberty—with his messy disarray of bronze hair and striking eyes of liquid gold, it still seemed rather odd to him.

As the months turned into years, it became even more apparent. Edward began to become aware of strange looks women would send him. Looks of hope and longing, and he could not for the life of him understand _why_ he would be getting these looks so suddenly.

Though he never did ask. He kept his mouth shut and acted as though he'd never noticed the looks on the countless faces. He began to even think he might _not_ want to know why people were staring at him.

But suddenly, expectedly, just as he turned seventeen, it got worse. He would have women stare at him for long periods of time without blinking or movie. People would drop whatever they were holding at the mere sight of him, and he even saw girls begin to text furiously upon making eye contact with him.

It frightened him. No—terrified him. But, being the stubborn, reclusive young man he was, he simply refused to ask. Maybe he liked torturing himself, or maybe he was simply too indifferent to the outside world. They'd never paid attention to him before, so why now?

It didn't make sense.

Even in school he was treated drastically different. Whereas before it was considered socially unacceptable to be around him, nowadays he was admired and adored. He still hardly interacted with his peers, but this seemed to only heighten their desire to be near him.

But there were other kinds of loves. It seemed like a fair portion of his school appeared to hate him even more. The exact opposite of what the others were doing.

He was loved and loathed. And feared. He could detect an underlying current of hysteria boiling below the surface. He could hear it ripple in their voices, see it rim their wide eyes, smell it roll off them in waves.

But he never understood until one fateful day.

It was a calm day, the clouds barely covering the sun, though doing a good job of blocking most of the light. It was cool, with no breeze, which served to annoy Edward even further. He missed the sun. Living in Mobile, Alabama did not help one get tanned, a fact proven by Edward.

His skin was pallid and cool to the touch, a cause of slow blood circulation. Not that many people knew. Edward liked to keep a certain amount of personal space, not at all being keen on physical contact.

He was standing rather awkwardly on the school grounds, not wanting to sit down on the damp fields. His hands dug deep into his coat pockets. He was alone, though not too far away from a group of his classmates playing soccer.

"Hello Edward," said a high-pitched voice from behind him. Edward sighed heavily, rolling his shoulders before turning around.

A girl his age stood there, with her hands on her hips. Silvery curls were swept back into a tight bun, and her pale grass eyes were narrowed at him. She was flanked by several other girls, some younger and some the same age. They all held the same expressions of determination, awe and…lust?

"Can I help you Kathryn?" He sighed in exasperation. He hated to be rude, but her presence was beginning to annoy him. She was one of the more persistent ones.

"I'm having a beach party tomorrow. I wanted to know if you wanted to come." Her voice held a casual tone, but Edward saw right through it. She was planning something.

"Yeah, it's supposed to be an _extra_ sunny day," said a curly haired redhead, who appeared to be a year younger. She shot Edward a meaningful look. He simply frowned.

"Sorry, but I have to do something tomorrow with my family." His voice was apologetic, but Edward was insanely glad he was otherwise occupied from attending her party. Though he might've still made some sort of excuse, even if he _wasn't_ doing anything.

The redhead glared at him, "Okay, enough excuses Edward. It's not a secret."

"We know about the sparkles Edward," Kathryn hissed. Edward was dumbfounded, thinking all of them to be more than slightly insane.

"What?" He spluttered, "What in the world are you talking about?"

Kathryn snapped her fingers and someone passed a DVD into her hand. She held it up for Edward to see.

_**Twilight  
Based on the novel by Stephenie Meyer**_

On the cover, there were two people who stood out. One of them looked like a rather docile, shy girl with brown hair, while the other strangely nearly resembled himself, with the same golden eyes, and _nearly_ the same bronze coloured hair, though Edward's was far more vivid in colour.

"You're him," She snarled, pointing to the man who had similar features to Edward, "He's you."

"He's an actor!" Edward protested, "He doesn't even look like me! Apart from the hair." He quickly added, pulling at the top strands of his coifed hair.

"Of course he doesn't look like you! He plays you! You're Edward Cullen." Her eyes narrowed even more, "You're a vampire."

Edward could sense that all this talking was leading up to something. "Don't be ridiculous," He stuttered nervously, "My last name is _Corwin_, not _Cullen_. And I'm not a vampire. See?" He lifted up his top lip, exposing his canine teeth, "No fangs."

"That proves it!" Kathryn screeched, "He's making up excuses! Get him girls!"

Before his mind could process the situation, he was running. Luckily for Edward, he'd always been a fast runner. He ran across the playing field with the girls chasing after him. Edward shot a pleading look to the other guys, but they simply shook their heads and snickered in amusement.

Edward quickened his pace, swiftly ducking behind a dumpster. He heard the many footsteps of the girls as they ran past shouting. He remained absolutely silent, his eyes and ears alert. Finally he found it safe to come out of his hiding place.

Edward studiously avoided any female contact for the rest of the day, eternally grateful that he didn't have any classes with Kathryn. He still had no idea what the girls had been talking about. _Twilight, Edward Cullen, vampires?_

That night at his house, he made it his duty to find out more about this so called _Twilight_. He searched up fan sites, photos, summaries, videos, and so much more. But each second he spent looking up _Edward Cullen_, the more he dreaded ever having been born.

They thought _he_ was Edward Cullen. An a hundred-and-eight year old, sexually depraved vampire. They had the sexually depraved part right, but _vampire_? What in the world would possess them to think _vampires_ would actually exist?

"Son of a bitch," Edward cursed, "Golden eyes? Messy copper hair? Tall frame? Chiselled jaw? What is this? I'm not _godly perfect_!" He said in a sarcastic voice, not caring if he was talking to himself, "Why the hell did Stephenie Meyer create this stupid character? Why did those idiotic skanks have to fall in love with him?"

"I hate my life!" He yelled, slamming his fists down on his computer desk. The glass shook, but fortunately didn't shatter. He couldn't believe by _pure chance_ some lady had created a character that _somehow_ ended up looking and acted exactly like himself.

"I'm probably going to have to go into hiding for the next twenty years," He muttered to himself, scrolling through the comments on one particular video.

He sighed. "Poor, poor Robert Pattinson. Although it is quite cool to see myself in anime form."

***

The next few weeks passed rather uneventfully, with Edward successfully avoiding every female in his school and on the streets. He began spending much more time at home and at the library, places he knew no Fan Girl would go. He also began to wear overly large sweaters, and was waiting for his coloured contacts to arrive.

"One more week, then I will no longer look like stupid Edward freaking Cullen," He murmured, pulling his hood up. He peeked out to check the streets. Deserted.

He quickly walked down the street, keeping his hood close to his face. His blood began to race as he heard faint giggles behind him. They progressively got louder and a thin sheet of sweat appeared on Edward's forehead.

"Oh Katie, you're _so_ funny," giggled some girl a few meters behind him. Edward internally groaned. Just his luck that _Kathryn_ would be there. If any girl knew how he walked, it was stalking-Kathryn.

"I know Melissa, I kno—who's that?" said the familiar high-pitched voice. Edward cringed, beginning to speed up his walk.

"Who's who?" asked an airy, nasally voice. Edward could practically see Kathryn roll her eyes in annoyance.

"_That_ person! Up there! In the hoodie," she said. Edward started jogging, hoping to make it to the nearest store. "I think it's…shit its Edward Cullen!"

He heard the screams begin and sprinted, dashing down the streets. His hood was blown back, further proving to them that it was in fact him. He knew by now, that when they said _Edward Cullen_, they meant him.

He looked around frantically, looking for a store, or at least an abandoned warehouse. But there were only a few houses, and Edward _really_ didn't feel like accidently knocking on the door of some Twilight Fan Girl's house.

Suddenly, he spotted something; a tiny bookstore, nearly resembling a house. Breathing a sigh of relief, he rushed forward before any of the girls could see him.

He pushed the small door open, the bell dinging with the slight breeze. An old woman—around sixty—stood at the cash, her grey hair pulled back into a long, willowy pony tail. She looked up, startled at the sudden noise.

"You shouldn't be here," She stuttered, but Edward placed a finger to his lips.

"I'm hiding," He whispered frantically, "If anyone asks if a guy ran in here, say no."

Her worried face cleared and she pointed to behind a shelf of books. Edward jogged behind the wooden frame, crouching low and keeping his head bent.

He waited, hearing the door open and close, listening to the old woman lie, saying no young man had come into her store all day. Edward smiled, praying that the Fan Girls would simply leave.

And they did. He collapsed against the bookshelf, letting out all his panic. Finally, he was safe again. There was a gasp beside him. Edward tensed up. _No…_

A young girl, around his age, with deep chocolate brown eyes, stared at him in shock. Her forehead was long, but not unattractively so, and wavy brown hair cascaded down her neck, reaching just below her shoulders. Her plump, red lips—attached to a smooth, ashen face—formed a circled, her top lip slightly larger than her bottom one.

One word popped into his head.

_Bella_.

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A/N: It's finally done. The idea was cute, and not _too_ short, so I decided it was worth it to write. I should note here that I am starting a new story soon. Keyword: Story. Not one-shot. Story. You should be angry at me, and proud. So, that'll be up sometime soon. I'm also tweaking up _**Porcelain**_ a bit. I'm not giving away _what_ I'm doing, but you'll see when it's done.

--Breathless Tomb--


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